[There's a moment's pause before his laughter pierces the smokey air around them again, taking it in, the joke there, processing it.]

I don't really go in for innuendo, but whatever floats your boat I suppose.

[There's movement from somewhere amidst the crowd, a small hand-gesture, the cut of dark eyes, and Giovanni's focus catches on his Handler, motioning for him to come. Good Dog. Heel.

Slowly, with unnatural grace, he peels himself away from the bar. Turns back to her briefly, smiling flashing white.]

But it looks like I'm needed elsewhere. Take care, Ms King. Perhaps we'll meet under more interesting circumstances, next time.

[And just like that, he begins to move away.]